A Hero's Suffering
by WyldDachshund
Summary: Sometimes the strongest person you know isn't all you think they are. REVIEW PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1 and 2

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no profit from this story.

A/N: This is a rough fic and it is a different look at our usually heroic wizard. If you like sensitive stories then this is not it. Also, this is a Harry/Hermoine pairing. This fic takes place after HBP, and does not follow the events of DH.

**A Hero's suffering**

Chapter One:

Number Four Privet Drive was engulfed in the rainy darkness that was not uncommon in England. From behind the thin prefabricated walls of the house, Vernon Dursley's voice could be heard above the din of the storm.

Harry found himself being flung forcibly from the sitting room. He was barely aware of the fact that he had been thrown so hard his feet were no longer touching the floor. Harry's impromptu flight was abruptly ended as he slammed into the side of the stairs. The impact had knocked Harry's glasses from his face, and the only image he could make out was a big blurry man stomping towards him. There was no time to think or move as Vernon's fist made contact with Harry's stomach. The force of the blow had been so hard that Harry could not fight back his body's involuntary urges and he began to throw up. Pain shot horribly up Harry's body and his knees buckled underneath him. Vernon, however, was not done. He grabbed his nephew by the back of his incredibly ragged sweater and picked him back up to his feet.

"As much as I hate you boy, I will not kick a man when he is down!" growled Vernon as he perched Harry on his precariously wobbly feet. Vernon's chivalry was short lived as Harry's face was forced inward by the impact of one of Vernon's ham-sized fists.

Harry crumpled on the floor. Barely conscious, the young man began to spit a mixture of blood, vomit, and teeth. He had been lucky that his glasses had not been on or else he may have lost an eye from the broken glass. Darkness soon took over Harry's consciousness.

Petunia and Dudley had finally been able to hold Vernon back, and while Dudley pulled his dad into the kitchen Petunia had been given the task of picking up what was left of the shattered little teenager. She had never been concerned about the fact that Harry was verbally and emotionally abused, but as she carried the broken body of her sister's son upstairs, she almost felt sorry for the pitiful being. Petunia placed Harry on his bed as gently as possible. This was not the first time she had seen Vernon lash out at Harry, but this was the first time that she was truly afraid that he would kill the boy. Before she left the room, Petunia's eyes fell upon the Hedwig the owl. She leaned in close and opened the bedroom window as well as the owl's cage. "Go. Tell someone to get him out of here." whispered Petunia as the large bird took flight.

Many miles away from Privet drive, Hermoine Granger lied restless in her bed. She had not slept well since the day that school had let out for the summer break. She sat up quickly in bed when a quiet tap emitted from behind the window blinds. She let out a tiny gasp when she saw Hedwig perched by her window. The snow owl would not be at her house this late at night if something wasn't wrong with Harry. Opening the window, Hermoine placed Hedwig on her desk. She checked Hedwig's leg for any scrap of parchment, but was dismayed to find no note. She could not fight the rising sense of dread that was causing her to panic. What could she do? Where was Harry? Did Voldemort or the Death Eaters finally find a way to get at him? She had to do something. Finally, after what had felt like hours of deliberation, Hermoine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She took a step forward with a slight twist and folded out of existence.

Petunia let out a muffled shriek when a young girl twirled into existence two feet in front of her. Hermoine was afraid that she had gotten the wrong destination until her eyes fell upon her fallen friend. She exchanged glances with the older woman, and despite the bile rising in her throat, Hermoine said nothing. She quickly began to load Harry's belongings into his trunk. Petunia had decided to stand in the hall outside of the bedroom to give the mystery girl her space. After having packed the trunk, Hermoine turned her focus to Harry. She could hardly look at her best friend. The blood had dried around his mouth and matted his typically unruly hair. She tried to be strong but soon the warm tears began to obscure her sight. She placed her hand inside her pajama pocket and pulled out her wand. She carefully placed the wand's tip against Harry's chest and whispered through silent sobs "_Mobilicorpus_." Harry's broken, unconscious body stiffened and rose into the air. Hermoine grabbed Harry's hand and twisted into nothingness. Petunia was left with a gaping mouth and a larger hatred for magic.

Chapter Two:

Hermoine laid Harry upon her bed after returning from Privet Drive. She checked Harry's pulse which seemed steady, if not a little weak. She had never seen someone as beaten and bruised as the young man before him, and she was disgusted at herself when she had troubles looking at her friend's battered and bloodied features. She hurried to her bathroom to get a glass of water and a rag, and on the way back she stopped by her bookcase to retrieve a book of healing spells. She gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and began to gently wipe the dried blood off of Harry's face and neck. She felt horrible when the smell of blood and vomit made her gag slightly. After a short while she had cleaned the majority of the blood off and began to search her book for an incantation that would allow Harry to regain his missing teeth. Having found a viable spell, Hermoine mumbled a few words and noticed a slight swelling of Harry's mouth which indicated that the spell had taken effect. Hermoine sighed and pulled the chair from her desk next to the bed. She plopped rather hard into the chair and took Harry's hand with her own. Her worry was soon replaced by anger and then by exhaustion, and after a short while Hermoine was asleep.

Harry's left eye fluttered slightly open. He could not open it fully due to swelling, and as far as he could tell he could not open his right eye at all. He tried to look around the room, but could not make out anything without his glasses. He felt something warm in his hand, and after a few seconds of running his fingers over the object, he realized that it was someone else's hand. Harry closed his swollen eye and slipped into a comfortable sleep as he let the warmth in his hand radiate through his whole body.

The morning sun peeked too early through the disheveled blinds into Hermoine Granger's bedroom. She awoke with a sore neck and an even sorer bum. She made a mental note that a desk chair does not make a good resting place. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes with her free hand and looked down at the visitor in her bed. There was Harry, his eye was slightly open and he smirked at her and then flinched when his busted lips reopened and began to bleed.

"Oh," said Hermoine handing him a rag "Good Morning, Harry. How long have you been awake?" she asked tiredly. "A little while. I did not want to wake you." said Harry. His mouth hurt but as he ran his tongue over his teeth he felt no gaps. His intuition said that he had Hermoine to thank for his new teeth. Hermoine realized that Harry had not yet let go of her hand, and was glad he did not have his glasses on because that meant he couldn't see her blush. Harry must have sensed something going on because he quickly let go of her hand and began to apologize profusely. He heard a rustling sound and felt Hermoine place his glasses on his face. This improved his vision, but did nothing against the swelling. Hermoine sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Harry. "You should get a shower. You go and do that and I will let my parents know that we have company." said Hermoine.

Harry grabbed a pair of ripped jeans and a ratty t-shirt. He almost asked Hermoine to repair the clothes for him, but he honestly didn't care. He was shown the bathroom and began to get undressed to get in the shower. His ribs were blue and swollen; he suspected they were either cracked or broken. Harry stepped into the shower and let the water pelt his sore body. Harry slowly turned the cold water off allowing the almost scalding hot water to help make his muscles relax. His pale skin was beginning to turn pink under the burning flow of water. He had to scrub his hair vigorously in order to get all the blood out, and he felt like a new person as he climbed out of the shower. The bathroom had turned into a sauna and Harry decided to get dressed in Hermoine's room instead. Harry made a quick dash with a towel around his waist across the hall into the bedroom. He pulled the door closed and quickly pulled on a pair of boxers and his jeans. As he was buttoning his jeans he heard the door open. He swung around to see Hermoine standing in the doorway. She quickly looked done and started to apologize.

"It's okay. You can come in." said Harry. Hermoine's eyes quickly darted from the floor to Harry and back as he slid on a shirt that was too small for him. She could not help but think of a homeless person when she looked at Harry. Now 16 years old, Harry had grown to be close to six feet tall. His shirt fit tight and barely covered the edge of his jeans, which were too large for him and torn to shreds in many places. If Hermoine had to venture a guess, Harry's shirt had to have been from their fourth year at Hogwarts, and his pants must have once belonged to his cousin who had destroyed the pants before they were passed on. There was a slight muscular look to Harry, but from how the tiny t-shirt clung to his ribs, one could tell that he went too often without eating.

"Umm," mumbled Hermoine "my parents say once you are dressed you can come downstairs. They are making breakfast and will set another place at the table." She finished. Harry just gave a slight nod. He was nervous about meeting the Grangers, and given the way he looked right now, he was sure he did not look like the kind of guy they would want their daughter hanging around with. Nonetheless, Harry slid on a pair of dirt stained socks and slowly walked down the stairs. Harry's emergence into the kitchen was greeted with an air of shock. The smiles he saw on the faces of Hermoine's mother and father were hiding a certain amount of alarm about the boy they saw in front of them. Harry's eyes dropped sullenly to the floor. He was ashamed of himself. He was ashamed of how he looked, and wished that he could melt into the floor. Hermoine led Harry to the seat next to her at the table and her parents took their seats as well. "Mr. Potter," said Mrs. Granger "would you like to say grace?" Harry stared for a moment and then slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't know how." Harry replied. Hermoine quickly said that she would, and after a short prayer they were all tucking into their breakfast. Conversation was lacking during the meal, and Harry tried to pay no attention to the less-than-subtle glances that the Grangers kept exchanging. It was Hermoine's father who would eventually break the silence.

"So, Harry. Tell us about yourself. We have heard a little about you from Hermoine but we rarely get to meet any of her friends." said Mr. Granger. Harry thought about his reply for a second before he responded. "Well, I am 16 and I am in the same year of school as Hermoine. We are in Gryffindor together and we both have a lot of the same friends." Harry said. Mr. Granger laughed and looked at Harry. "We know that much Harry. Tell us about YOU. Who is Harry Potter? We have heard that you are a pretty big deal in the wizarding world." said Mr. Granger. "I'm not as important as many people make me sound, sir." replied Harry, trying not to look at Hermoine when he said it. It was a good thing that he didn't because Hermoine had a look of disbelief on her face. "Honestly!" Hermoine protested, "Come on Harry, you know that isn't true." The Granger looked surprised at their daughter's outburst. Harry just stared at his eggs and toast. "There's no reason to be modest Harry. Obviously my daughter seems to think you are holding back." said Mrs. Granger. Harry took a deep breath and looked at the others at the table. "I am made to sound like some kind of hero, but trust me you don't want to hear about my life." Harry mumbled as a response.

After a few minutes of quiet, Harry picked up the dishes and silverware and began to instinctively wash and dry them. The Grangers were left sitting at the table watching the stranger as he washed their dirty dishes. Mrs. Granger walked behind Harry placing a hand on his shoulder. Harry shrank away quickly from her hand as if it had burned him like fire. He spun around and his eyes were wide with fright. The teacup he had been holding in his hand shattered leaving pieces of porcelain embedded in his flesh. Harry quickly walked from the room. He paid no attention to the trail of blood he was dripping from his hand. Hermoine quickly followed her friend as he headed up the stairs and into her room. Mrs. Granger stood in the kitchen and shared a shocked look. "You know Dan," said Emma Granger to her husband "That boy shows the signs of abuse." Dan Granger chuckled. "Which part gave you that idea? Was it the part where he showed up with two black eyes or the part where he shattered the cup when you caught him off guard?" Dan asked sarcastically.

Hermoine found Harry sitting in the corner of her room looking at his hand. Hermoine walked closer to her friend and noticed a large piece of teacup was sticking out of Harry's hand. Before she could plead with Harry to let her see it, he had grasped the shard of porcelain and pulled it free from his hand. Blood began to quickly pool in the palm of Harry's hand. Harry watched as the tip of Hermoine's wand touched his wound and it quickly scabbed over. "Harry, what was all that?" Hermoine said softly. Harry's eyes began to tear and his words were constricted with emotion. "I was just surprised, that's all." Harry lied. Hermoine watched as her friend's body was wracked with silent sobs. She hugged her suffering friend, and was shocked when he laid his head on her lap. Hermoine felt like she was meeting the real Harry Potter for the first time. She finally understood. He wasn't the bulletproof hero that everyone made him out to be, but rather he was an injured young man whose wounds were far deeper than his bruised skin.


	2. Chapters 3 and 4

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own Harry Potter, nor do I profit from these stories.

Chapter 3:

Hermoine watched as her best friend silently wept. His tears were slowly staining the denim of her jeans. She didn't speak. She just sat there, running her fingers through his wild hair. This simple act of kindness seemed to calm his sorrow. As she ran the tip of her index finger across his unruly bangs, she noticed the legendary scar. Hermoine had not paid attention to the mark since their first year. It had become an everyday thing like Ron's freckles. Now, however, it seemed completely new to her. It was as if she had never seen Harry's scar before. The lighting bolt sank into his forehead as if he had been branded. She gave a small shiver at the thought of a baby being seared with a hot iron. Did it hurt? She knew of his mother's sacrifice, and how it had saved his life, but did that keep him from feeling the curse? The sound of her bedroom door opening brought Hermoine back to her senses.

"Is he okay?" asked Emma Granger quietly. Hermoine nodded; she had only just realized that he was no longer crying. She allowed herself a small smile when she saw that Harry had actually fallen asleep on her lap. "He's okay, Mom. He's sleeping now." Hermoine said in a whisper. Emma nodded and exited the room, pulling the door to as she left. Her parents had given her an earful about bringing a stranger into their home in the middle of the night. Her explanation of Harry's predicament had not satisfied their mistrust, but having seen Harry's bruised feature must have said more than Hermoine ever could. She glanced once again at her friend. He laid sleeping on her lap, nearly curled into a fetal position; the only hope of the wizarding world.

Chapter 4:

Harry was awakened by Hermoine's voice. She was whispering lightly in his ear. "Harry? Harry, you need to wake up." she said ever so softly. Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, and wiped his eyes. Hermoine handed him his glasses, which he could only guess she had taken off of him when he had fallen asleep. Harry's fuzzy world became suddenly clear, and the first thing he saw was Hermoine. He her gave a little smile and a small "Hello." "Hi," said Hermoine with a smile "it is dinnertime. You slept through lunch." she finished. Harry's smile faded. After what had happened at breakfast he was uneasy about reentering the kitchen. Hermoine must have read his mind, as she took him by the hand and said "It will be okay, I promise."

Harry had not felt so nervous since his hearing at the ministry of magic. When he entered the kitchen he noticed the Grangers' expressions looked a lot softer than the looks of partially-hidden shock he received at breakfast. Harry took his seat, and remembering the morning meal, waited until grace had been said before he started eating. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until the first bite of food hit his stomach. Forgetting his manners, Harry began to shovel in his dinner. "Harry, you may want to slow down so you can actually taste your food." said Dan Granger with a chuckle. Harry looked up from his plate and noticed that the entire family was looking at him. Dan was smiling at him, but Emma seemed to be less than amused. "Sorry, it is very good. I like it very much." said Harry, aiming his complement at Mrs. Granger. She gave a curt smile, which Harry took as an acceptance of his apology. Harry had to admit that he hadn't been lying. The food was wonderful. After dinner was finished Harry began to once again instinctively clean the dishes. This time Dan called him into the living room saying "Harry, why don't you come in here with me. We'll let Emma and Hermoine take care of the dishes." Harry set down the plate that he had been scrubbing and went into the living room with Dan. After a few minutes the ladies had joined them.

Emma seemed to be in a better mood, and had even taken a great amount of enjoyment in showing Harry baby pictures of Hermoine. Harry laughed at the large amount of photos that features a naked toddler. "She always was a little nudist. I was afraid that I would have to keep her out of school because she never kept her clothes on." Emma said. Hermoine turned a deep scarlet while Harry laughed at the revealing photos. Emma's smile quickly vanished from her face and she grabbed Harry by the arm. "Harry, what is this?" she asked, pointing at a large scar running down his forearm. Harry just gave a reassuring smile and said "It's nothing, just an old scar. I have a lot of them." This did not seem to appease Emma. Harry looked at Hermoine, and she just gave him a curious look. "I was bit by a snake. You remember, don't you Hermoine? It was our second year." Harry said, slightly bending the truth. "Oh my gosh, you mean the Basilisk?" Hermoine almost shouted. "Excuse me, but what is a Basilisk?" asked Dan. "A snake." said Harry. "Yeah, a snake as long as a metro train and with poison, razor-sharp fangs." said Hemoine. The Grangers were shocked at the story that Hermoine told about her friends and a Chamber of Secrets. "How old were you Harry?" asked Dan. "Umm, let's see. That was our second year so I was twelve." said Harry as if it were no big deal. There was a deafening silence.

Fifteen minutes passed and the silence had not been broken. Harry seemed greatly disturbed by the situation. His eyes were glued on the book of pictures, which was now closed and sitting on the coffee table. "Harry." said Emma Granger, "Could you tell us about who you REALLY are?" Harry let out a small sigh. "I'm the boy who lived." said Harry as he lifted his bangs revealing the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. "I was one year old when a dark wizard murdered my father and my mother. He tried to kill me, but because of the sacrifice my mother made trying to save my life, all I got was a scar and celebrity status." Harry continued. "Supposedly, I am the only person to survive a killing curse. Now, however, the wizard that murdered my parents is back and he wants to finish the job." His words were cold and dull. The room was filled with a tension that could have been cut with a knife. Harry kept speaking. "I was placed in the care of my Aunt and Uncle. I was raised as an outsider, and I never knew why. I slept in a cramped closet underneath the stairs, which locked from the outside. Often I was locked in the closet when I was in trouble. There was not central air so my cupboard was swelteringly hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter. I was only given an actual room when I was too tall to fit in the closet." Harry felt his heart constrict. He felt everyone looking at him and he wished he were invisible. Tears began to form around the edges of his eyes. Slowly he continued. "When I was younger I was treated like hired help. I was responsible for all the housework. I can remember when my relatives would entertain guests; my Aunt would often take all the compliments for how nice the house looked. I was not allowed downstairs during these events. My Uncle Vernon would tell me that I was to stay in my room, be quiet and pretend I didn't exist. When I was ten years old I accidentally knocked over some boxes in the cupboard while they had company. Uncle Vernon blamed it on a cat, but after everyone had left he beat me across my back with a belt. He was right; I wished I had not existed."

Harry began to cry. He was shaking violently from recalling the memories. Emma regretted ever having asked the young man about his past. She had hoped to better understand the young man, but her curiosity had backfired. Hermoine slid next to Harry on the couch, but when she tried to touch him he would recoil from her. Despite his tears, Harry kept talking. "When I got older, Vernon got more violent. He wouldn't spank me with the belt, but instead he would strike me with the belt buckle. His slaps across the face soon became fists. It wasn't just the physical punishment. They would lock me in my room for days at a time. I would be given food everyday, but usually it was recently spoiled and had been given to me instead of being thrown out. I had to get used to being alone; to being hungry." Harry got choked on his words and had to take a moment before he could speak again. His face was contorted with pain and anger. The Cruciatus curse felt like a bee-sting compared to the inner pain he was feeling at that moment. "Why couldn't I have been hit with the curse before my mom? Why couldn't I have died with them? The rest of my family hates me, and the rest of the wizarding world either envies me, thinks I am a liar, or thinks I will save the world. The only people that ever wanted me are dead. My mom, my dad, my godfather, and now our headmaster; they're all dead. I was there for all of their deaths, and each time I was helpless to stop it from happening. How can I be expected to save the world when I can even save those people I love?"

Harry was no longer crying. What he was doing could not be defined as crying. He was dying on the inside. His heart was broken. Hermoine was finally allowed to touch Harry, and she helped him to his feet and up the stairs. She took Harry into the guest bedroom and laid him upon the bed. He seemed like a frightened child. She began to tear up, and she sat down beside him. She cradled Harry and allowed him to cry on her shoulder. He had always seemed so strong. She had seen him run head-on into danger numerous times. He had saved her life. They had fought side by side. Now Hermoine felt like she was helping Harry face an enemy worse than Voldemort. She was helping him fight his past. She felt tears run down her face as she watched him cling to her for dear life. Between his heartbreaking sobs he could hear him saying her name. He was asking her not to leave him. He didn't want her to go. He didn't want her…to die. Hermoine's sobs came almost as hard as Harry's. She bent down and whispered in Harry's ear "I won't leave you, Harry. I'll stay for as long as you want." Hermoine had seen Harry cry before. She had seen it after Sirius fell behind the veil. She had seen it at Dumbledore's funeral. Never had she seen anything like what had just happened. If a human being could truly break down, Harry had just done it. Slowly his crying subsided. Harry had finally run out of tears. His body still shook with sobs, but after a little while these stopped as well. He was not asleep. He was just lying on the bed. His arms were still around Hermoine's waist. Slowly, Hemoine lay down next to him. She looked into his emerald green eyes and saw helplessness. She waited until he fell asleep, and lightly kissed his scar. She rose from the bed and left the room. Her mother and father were still sitting in the living room downstairs. She could hear her mom crying and her dad saying "Its okay Emma, it really is. I know you weren't trying to hurt him. I'm sure he knows." Hermoine slipped quietly into her room and into bed. Sleep came quickly, and she dreamed about cupboards, snakes, and emerald eyes.

A/N: Okay so this is the end of chapter two, and I hope the story is to your liking. I am not sure how I am going to handle the whole Ron/Ginny situation. Honestly I had not thought of it before I started writing. If you have any ideas let me know, I may use them. Oh yeah, I also need to say that I got the names of the Granger from fanfics by Chemprof. So I do not take credit. READ AND REVIEW.


	3. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Okay, so here is part three, I hope you like it.

Chapter 5:

Harry's eyes fluttered open. His body was exhausted, but according to the clock on the wall it was almost nine o'clock. Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had fallen asleep with his glasses on. Every part of his body felt stiff, and when he climbed out of bed he had to hold on to the headboard to keep his legs from giving out. He opened the door to the bedroom and could hear signs of life from the kitchen. He made his way down the stairs not knowing what to expect. As he passed the living room Harry could hear Hermoine's voice. She was laughing. This made Harry's heart skip a beat. There was something about Hermoine. She reminded him of all the stories he had heard about his mom. Professor Slughorn had said that Lily had been very smart, especially as a Muggle-born. All the stories made her out to be a kindhearted person who was the match, if not the complete opposite, to the reckless James Potter. Harry had never given much thought about it, but he and Hermoine's relationship was very much like his parents'. His train of thought was broken by a chorus of "Morning, Harry." He tried to speak but his throat was extremely dry and sore from the previous night. Instead of speaking Harry just gave a friendly wave of his hand. Emma Granger placed a cup of steaming tea in front of him. "It has lemon and honey in it. That should help your throat." Emma said with a smile. Harry nodded politely and slowly sipped the beverage. Hermoine sat down next to him and placed a plate of fish and chips in front of him. "Eat," said Hermoine "You're going to need your energy. Mom and I have decided to take you out for the day." Harry didn't know what to say, so he just nodded again and began to slowly shovel bits of fried fish and potatoes into his mouth. The food helped Harry regain his strength, and the tea may as well have been one of Slughorn's potions. It calmed the raw burning in his throat and slowly began to sooth his vocal chords.

Harry's appetite had been filled, but his body was still sore and tired. He headed upstairs, grabbed some clothes, and took another one of his scorching hot showers. He had just buttoned his jeans when he heard a shrill scream from downstairs. Harry's reflexes took over as he bounded out of the bathroom and crashed into Hermoine's room, almost taking the door off the hinges. He reached into his trunk and pulled out his wand. Harry flew down the stairs taking them two at a time and as he neared the bottom he leapt the last six steps. Harry's feet, however, were still wet and found no grip on the tile floor. Harry's body pitched forward. Instinctively Harry tucked his head to his chest and hit the floor in a roll. When his feet met the ground again they found traction and Harry bolted into the kitchen. Harry's eyes glanced all around the kitchen but found no enemies. All three Grangers were looking at Harry as he stood shirtless and still dripping wet in the kitchen. "Is everyone all right?" said Harry, obviously panicked. Emma Granger let out a nervous laugh. Harry glanced at her. "Sorry, I screamed. There was a frog on the floor. I'm afraid of frogs." explained Mrs. Granger. Harry sighed and placed his wand in his jean pocket. Harry glanced at Hermoine and noticed her eyes had not left him since he entered the room. "Umm, Hermoine? Are you okay?" asked Harry smirking. Hermoine blinked rapidly and quickly looked away. "Yeah, I'm fine." she said blushing slightly. "Wow, Harry that's quite the collection of scars you have." said Dan with a smirk. Emma gave him a reproachful look, but Harry just smiled. "Yes, well scars are just tattoos with better stories." said Harry grinning. Harry pointed out small burn scars he had received on his left shoulder from the Hungarian Horntail during the Triwizard Tournament. He had what looked like a permanent bruise on his right pectoral muscle. This had been where Voldemort had attacked him when they had battled for the Sorcerer's Stone. He had a scar across his ribcage that had been given to him by the Whomping Willow. Hermoine recognized this scar from when they had sneaked into the Shrieking Shack. Hermoine noticed a bunch of small but deep scars scattered across Harry's chest and stomach. "Where did you get those, Harry?" asked Hermoine. "Cruciatus Curse. Voldemort gave me those after he killed Cedric." Harry said. He was no longer smiling. Dan, however, began to ask about the scars on his arms and Harry was once again smiling. He told Dan about his many broken bones and compound fractures that he had received while playing Quidditch.

After a half-hour of conversation about Harry's scars they all left the kitchen and headed upstairs to get ready for their day on the town. Harry and Hermoine both headed for her room so that he could find a shirt and so she could get her shoes. When they had both entered the room Hermoine pulled the door closed. "Harry." she said, trying to get his attention. "Yeah Hermoine?" Harry answered. "When you were talking about your scars, you were smiling. Why?" she asked. Harry took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "My scars remind me of my friends. The burns on my shoulder remind me Cedric, because I told him about the Dragon challenge. My Quidditch scars remind me of Fred and George, Ron, Katie, Oliver Wood, and the rest of our House Team. My scar on my ribs reminds me of you, because we were both there trying to help Ron." Harry finished. She noticed that he did not mention the scars that reminded him of Voldemort. Each time he had been confronted by Voldemort someone had died. Hermoine was sure that those scars helped him remember what was at stake in this wizarding war. Hermoine stepped closer to Harry and placed her hand on his shoulder. She could feel the tight, misshaped scars under her fingers. Harry's body stiffened for a moment, but he quickly relaxed. He slowly lowered his face to look at Hermoine. He had never given much thought to the height difference between Hermoine and himself. He stood head and shoulders over the young lady before him. Hermoine's hand slowly moved from his shoulder and traced the scar across Harry's ribs. "This scar reminds you of me?" she asked quietly. Harry didn't know what to say so he just nodded. Slowly Hermoine lifted the edge of her shirt and pulled down the edge of her jeans. Sweeping upward from the edge of her hip was a light pink scar against milk colored skin. "I got this one fighting beside you in the ministry." Hemoine said, and slowly traced the scar with Harry's finger from her hip over her bare stomach. Harry's breath caught in his throat. She stopped his hand and placed it on her right collarbone. "This is where it stops." Harry said nothing. "I have many scars to remember you by." Hermoine said. She showed him a deep scar across her left bicep that she had received from the Whomping Willow, and a smaller scar running up her back that she had received during their life and death game of wizard chess in the first year. Harry was speechless. Often he felt his scars were unique. They represented times in his life that seemed to only affect his life and his future, yet here was this 17 year old girl whose body had been forever marked because of her willingness to stand with him. Harry's emotions began to get the better of him. He had often gotten angry and yelled at his friends because he did not want them to get hurt, but they DID get hurt. Each one of them had walked away with their own scars. Even Neville and Luna had gotten their fair share of injuries during their fifth year. Harry blinked hard as he tried to keep tears from falling. It wasn't working. Suddenly, Harry was pulled downward by his shoulders. He was face to face with Hermoine, and her expression was very serious. "Don't you cry, Harry Potter!" she said sternly as her own tears began to form. "I stand beside you because I want to, and I am proud to say I was scarred because I was helping make our world a safer one. I am not ashamed of my actions and I am not afraid to keep standing beside you." she finished. Harry opened his mouth to talk back, but was stopped abruptly by Hermoine's lips meeting his own. His heart felt like it had stopped. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Hermoine's waist. She, in turn, placed her arms around his neck. Time no longer existed. It could have been a few seconds or a hundred lifetimes, but when they broke apart it seemed too soon.

They both had to sit on the bed after their kiss had ended. They both felt as if they were unable to stand, and Harry laughed when he was reminded of the Jelly Legs Jinx he had practiced. They could not look at each other because every time they tried they both began to blush mercilessly. Harry slid on a shirt, and Hermoine grabbed her sneakers. Finally, Hermoine spoke. "I'm sorry Harry." she spoke quickly. Harry just gave a small laugh. Hermoine looked at him confusedly. "I'm not." said Harry looking at her. They blushed again, but this time did not look away. Hermoine giggled when she noticed that Harry's lightning shaped scar turned blood-red when he blushed. "Are you two ready yet!" came a yell from downstairs. Harry and Hermoine exchanged a small smile and quickly left the room. Their day together was exactly what Harry needed. Hemoine made his day unforgettable.

After what seemed like the perfect day, they all arrived back at the Granger residence. Dan looked at the clock, which read 3:00 p.m., and said "I want everyone to be back downstairs at six o'clock. I'm going to take everyone to dinner, so be sure to dress appropriately." Harry and Hermoine nodded their acknowledgment and headed back up to Hermoine's room. As Harry opened the door a brown blur nailed him in the face. Harry grabbed his face and dropped to the floor. "OW! WHAT WAS THAT?" Harry shouted. He heard Hermoine laugh. "It's Pigwidgeon." said Hermoine. "Oh no." said Hermoine after reading the note attached to the tiny owl. "Is everything okay at the Burrow?" asked Harry. "Yeah, but I forgot to send an owl saying you were here. Mr. and Mrs. Weasly are freaking out." answered Hermoine. She walked over to her desk and quickly scratched out a response on a piece of parchment and sent Pig back to the Burrow. "What did you tell them?" asked Harry as he watched the bird wing its way into the sky. "I told them that we will tell them the whole story tomorrow." said Hermoine. Harry worried that he Weaslys would be offended that they did not find out sooner. Then his mind drifted to Ginny. He had broken up with her just a little over two weeks ago, and yet he didn't miss her like he originally thought he would. She had always had a crush on him, but it wasn't until he saw her kissing Dean last semester that he started to care about her. Did he really care about her though? He had felt the "monster" in his chest. It had made him jealous of Dean, and made him triumphant when he kissed her. Now, however, the "monster" was silent. Harry sat silently on Hermoine's bed thinking about his previous relationship. Finally, Harry's brain pieced everything together. He hadn't wanted Ginny when she was crushing on him, but when she wasn't drooling over him he wanted her. Harry had enjoyed the idea of Ginny being infatuated with him. He wasn't THAT egotistical, was he? Still, that was the only way to explain it. When she wanted him he was thrilled, but when he had her the trill was gone. Harry remembered the saying "You only want something until you have it." Was this the definition of his blooming relationship with Hermoine? Harry shook his head. No, it wasn't the same. He had never thought of Hermoine as girlfriend material, but now he wanted to beside her always. The questions still remained. How would he break it to Ginny, and would Ron still be his best mate when he broke the news?

Hermoine tapped Harry on his shoulder and he looked up at her. She had slid on a light blue dress and put on some eye shadow and lipstick. "Do you like it?" she asked Harry. He couldn't say anything. She looked radiant, but instead of actually saying that Harry just nodded dumbly. Hermoine giggled, and gave Harry a small kiss on the cheek. "You need to get dressed it is almost six." Hermoine said. Harry looked at the alarm clock and leapt off the bed. He had dazed out for two whole hours. He searched his trunk and found the nicest clothes he had, and quickly left Hermoine's room for his own. A few minutes later Harry walked out wearing a dark green button up shirt with a loosuly tied necktie and a dark colored pair of jeans. Hermoine looked at him and laughed. "What's the matter?" asked Harry as he glanced down at his clothes. Hermoine grabbed her wand and touched the tip to Harry's clothes. She mumbled a short incantation and all the wrinkles fell out of his clothes. "You have to remember, clothes wrinkle if you leave them in your trunk." said Hermoine with a smile. Harry just gave a small smirk and they walked down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Emma and Dan were already waiting for them. "Well Harry, are you ready for a nice steak?" said Dan. Harry nodded eagerly and they all left the house. When they arrived at the restaurant Harry felt completely out of place. The room was darkly lit, and soft music wafted through the air. The aroma of different food caused Harry's stomach to tie itself in a knot. He had not realized he was so hungry. As they were seated Dan bent close to Harry's ear and whispered "This is the best restaurant in all of London, Harry. Anybody who is of any importance eats here. I was roommates with the owner back in my college years, so anytime I want to eat here he gives me a table. I don't even need a reservation." Dan raised his eyebrows at Harry and sat back upright. Harry began to browse the menu when he heard Mrs. Granger give a little squeak. "Danny! Danny, look! It's the Prime Minister." she said in an excited whisper. Harry glanced around, but honestly didn't know what the Muggle Prime Minister looked like, so he wasn't sure where to look. Dan tapped Harry on the shoulder and pointed is thumb at two men sitting at a table halfway across the room. Harry's eyes became wide. "I know him." said Harry quietly. "Everyone knows him, Harry. He's England's Prime Minister." said Dan with a slight chuckle. "No. Not him, the other one." said Harry. Everyone's eyes turned to the second man at the table. He looked older than Prime Minister, and more grizzled. The second man raised his head and looked across the room. Harry hid his face behind the menu and hoped that he had not been seen. "Harry, that's not who I think it is. Is it?" Hermoine said. Harry could hear footsteps and prayed that they would keep going, but they did not. "Harry Potter? I am surprised to see you in a place like this." said a gravelly voice. Harry looked up from his menu, with a forced smile. "Minister Scrimgeour. I could say the same about you." Harry replied. "Come, Harry I would like to introduce you to someone." said the Minister of Magic. Harry glanced at Dan and Emma and they both nodded. Harry climbed out of his chair. "You may come too, if you would like, Ms. Granger." Scrimgeour said with a wry smile. Hermoine joined Harry and the walked over to the Minister's table. "Prime Minister, I would like to introduce you to Harry Potter and his friend Ms. Hermoine Granger. They have faced our mutual enemy and lived to tell the tale." said Rufus Scrimgeour in a cold voice. The Prime Minister raised his hand and shook both Harry and Hermoine's. "I am glad to hear that you are well. From what Rufus tells me, the enemy doesn't usually allow survivors. It is an honor to meet you both" he said. "Well Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, if you will excuse us the Prime Minister and I have some business to attend to." the Minister of Magic said. As they turned to walk away Scrimgeour called out, "Oh, and Mr. Potter about what we talked about last time." Harry tuned and said "I'm sorry Minister but there hasn't been any change in my opinion, and I don't foresee any change in the near future." Scrimgeor nodded and Harry went back to his table. Emma looked absolutely pleased that her daughter had been able to meet the Prime Minister. Dan, on the other hand looked sad that it had not been him speaking to important government figures.

Dinner had been relatively quiet after that, and Dan had gotten his wish when the Prime Minister stopped at their table to tell Harry and Hermoine again how nice it was to meet them, and then introduced himself to the Grangers. Scrimgeour merely stood with crossed arms behind the Prime Minister and glared at Harry, who tried to ignore him. After a large meal, and an impromptu movie and stop at an ice-cream parlor, the family returned home. Harry and Hermoine told the Granger goodnight, and headed upstairs. Hermoine opened her door and leaned against the doorframe. She looked at Harry as he took off his tie and unbuttoned a second button on his shirt. "You are a celebrity, aren't you Harry." Hermoine said with a grin. She took a step forward and grabbed Harry's shirt. "You were introduced to one of the most powerful people in the Muggle world, by one on the most powerful people in the wizarding world. Better yet, you had all that happen to you, and you don't even have a big head about It." she said as she stepped closer to him. "Do you know how attractive that is?" she said as she pulled Harry down by his shirt into a kiss. "Harry you left you 'to-go' box on the counter. I put it in…the…fridge." Mrs. Granger stopped short on the top step. Harry and Hermoine had both been caught off guard, and now stood like two deer frozen in a set of headlights. The only movement was the rushing of blood to their faces causing them to blush. Emma Granger just cleared her throat, and they were unfrozen. They both stood up straight, and avoided making eye contact with each other. "Umm, thank you Mrs. Granger. I really appreciate that." said Harry quickly. He then faked a yawn, stretched, and said "Well, I'm beat. I'll see you both in the morning." and he made a hasty retreat to his room. Hermoine, however, was still trapped in the hall with her mom. Hermoine gave a nervous chuckle, and her mom came up the stairs and walked towards her. Hermoine tried not to make eye contact with her mom. Then her mom spoke. "You've smeared your lipstick." Hermoine gave a confused look to her mom. Emma was smiling. "Just don't let your dad see you doing too much of that. He likes to think you're still a little girl. And tell Harry, that I said he is adorable when he's embarrassed." Emma said. She then turned around and walked back down stairs. Harry's door creaked open and he popped his head out. "Is she gone?" he asked nervously. Hermoine didn't say anything. She just walked over and started where they had left off. Harry went to bed with a big smile and numb lips.

A/N: Sorry it took so long for the third part of the story. Work has been hectic lately. I hope this is to your liking. Next addition deals with the Weaslys. READ and REVIEW.


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